Having Type 1 Bipolar Disorder hasn’t always been fun and games…enter sarcasm.
There have been many times I’ve experienced paranoid delusions.
Here’s my example.
After being diagnosed I stayed on my medication for about a year. Though, I wasn’t convinced I was bipolar. I also hated the side effects of what I was taking. I had a hard time swallowing that diagnosis. Could I really be that mental? Am I possibly just hormonally imbalanced? Was I misdiagnosed?
A slew of questions swarmed my head.
I talked to my husband about me going off my medication. I told him I did research and found many people managed with a better diet, and therapy.
I do have the greatest husband in the world.
He reluctantly agreed, and there it was done. I had decided to discontinue my medication and had the support of my husband. After all he only wanted me to be happy.
My next appointment with my psychiatrist, I told him I was through with theses medications and I wanted to discontinue taking them. To his surprise, he highly suggested I not do that. Explaining I have a real disorder, and stopping my medication could throw me into depression or worse mania!
I didn’t want to listen as my mind was made up. I was through, and knew I could manage whatever was wrong through diet and therapy.
So off the lithium I went, off the anxiety pills, and off the mood stabilizers.
In a week I started feeling my old self again. I wasn’t sleepy, wasn’t feeling weird side effects, no depression, just me!
I had begun doing things around the house, exercising, and cooking up a storm.
For the 1st time in a year I felt better than ever.
Well, eventually all good things come to an end! Three weeks went by and I was in the beginning of mania. Although I didn’t realize it. At this time I was convinced there was nothing wrong with me. That my losing my creativity, my mojo was all due to the medication.
I have a lot of unresolved issues, so I thought seeing a therapist was a good idea, not for bipolar mind you, but to deal with my issues.
I went to an eccentric therapist, she practiced eastern medicine. Well, needless to say it was an interesting 1st, and last session I ever had with her. In a nutshell, she was not psychotherapy by any means, and even went as far as to “clean my Ora!”
So, now I was without a therapist, had hardly changed my diet, and on a spiral into mania.
It didn’t take but another few weeks before I would begin to lose myself. I started in with the rapid speech, insomnia, irritability, grandiose thing, nonsensical thinking, attention issues, and a new symptom…paranoid delusions!
I began to feel that certain people were out to get me. To trash me in some way. I eventually withdrew my associations with friends, and became a recluse. To follow, I began seeing and hearing things that no one else did.
This would freak me out! I would be alone in my home and swear to no end that a man in black would cross from one bedroom to the bathroom. I would hear music playing when none was.
This began to frighten me.
A few months went by and I finally came to the conclusion I needed help. It was very hard for me to convince myself I was bipolar.
So I made an appointment with my primary care physician to get some tests done.
I had tested my hormone levels to see if I was just imbalanced or maybe premenopausal..although I’m not that old, but was willing to accept anything but bipolar at that time! I even had a thyroid test taken. All came back normal. Which lead me to only one conclusion.
I must be bipolar!
It was a sad moment for me. I left the doctor’s office, and went home to cry. I cried for hours alone. Now I was feeling bad not just because I had come to terms, but because I read my husband the riot act for ever insinuating I was ever bipolar. Just shy of calling him a monster for ever seeing me that way.
I was now eating humble pie!
So, I alone decided to go back on my medication and sought out a new psychiatrist to help me. My husband was relieved and supportive.
I would get on Abilify, Depakote, and Prozac to help balance me out. With in two to three weeks my paranoid delusions would disappear. My stability would come back, and things were better at home.
It was a hard lesson but I think it was for the better. I got to see me on and off medication, and realize I’m better off in the long and short run being medicated.
I do have a hard time taking my medication from time-to-time, but I’m reminded of how scary not taking it could be.
Have you ever stopped taking your medication? What was your experience? Please share in the comments or DM be personally via twitter.